


Age of Andromeda

by 7estrixia (Destielixer)



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M, Mage Ryder, Warrior Jaal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-15 11:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destielixer/pseuds/7estrixia
Summary: When the kett invade Havarl and threaten the angara, they must join forces and find allies in the humans of Terrene. Can Prince Jaal of Aya overcome the hatred he has for Terrene's prince or will they all be doomed to turn into kett slaves? Medieval-Fantasy AU. Scott Ryder is a mage prince. Slow-burn. ((i need to work on the summary for this))





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Terrene - The human's territory  
> tellurian - derogatory term for humans  
> changelings - basically the 'chosen', 'anointed' and 'destined' from the game

**Prologue**  
  
_— Aya, The angara capital —_  
   
“We are not asking them for help!” General Evfra snapped.  
  
“We do not have a choice. The humans are the closest allies we have Evfra,” Moshae said trying to reason with the general, “And their lands will be invaded as well if the kett continue to advance on Havarl. They will have to join with us.”  
  
Jaal nodded in agreement with the royal blacksmith’s words, “A joint motive would be enough to have the humans throw in their weight with us. I’ve met them and they are good people. When they find a cause to fight for, they will stick with it.”  
  
General Evfra shook his head in disbelief, “Nonsense! Just because you have been beyond the borders of Aya my liege, doesn’t mean that you know all about them! I for one will not have a pale-faced tellurian _mage_ for an ally,” Evfra retorted, “We have no need for them and their weak, soft forms. We are stronger than them, better than them.”  
  
“We may be stronger than them but there is strength in numbers Evfra and our people alone cannot be mobilised quick enough to have even a fighting chance at holding the kett back,” Queen Sahuna spoke, “We are losing more and more of our people and soldiers each day. We _need_ King Alec, on our side,” she said staring the General down firmly, “And mage or not, it makes no difference Evfra. I’m starting to wonder, if you hate mages so much, then as your Queen, should I be worried as well?”  
  
At that the General had the decency to look embarrassed.  
  
“I do not like the idea of having a tellurian at my back,” Evfra said, “But if you insist at having their alliance, then I will have no choice but to obey your command, my Queen.”  
  
At that, the Queen broke off into a coughing fit and Jaal was quick to be by her side, stroking her back and holding her close. He had seen what the kett could do with their magic, seen the horrible monsters they had created. Their changelings, slaves of different races touched by the dark magic…and now his mother too…was slowly becoming one of them.  
  
“Thank you,” Sahuna said her voice raspy once the coughing had subsided, “Please Evfra, remember your manners when you go to Terrene. They are humans.”  
  
“Once a tellurian bastard always a tellurian bastard…” Evra ground out as he turned his back on the Queen, the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows catching the scar that marred the left side of his face.  
  
“That could yet change,” Queen Sahuna said calling out to her General, “One day, one of those humans will prove you wrong Evfra de Tershaav.”


	2. Chapter 1: The Kett Uprising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Evfra has sought out the help of King Alec of Terrene. Together, their combined forces enter the fray in the battle at Havarl. Scott Ryder, finds himself in the thick of the moment with changelings and kett attacking him. Instinct tells him to fight, to survive.

**Chapter 1: The Kett Uprising**

_— Havarl —_

The world was full of the sound of chaos, the sound of men shouting and the sound of metal clashing against metal. Scott could feel the squelch of the muddy earth beneath his fingers as he pushed himself up, gritting his teeth from the sting of the arrow sticking out of his left shoulder. He broke the shaft in half tossing the back end away. If he pulled the arrow out now he might not be able to control the bleeding.

Across from him his father, King Alec Ryder was keeping a group of kett and changelings at bay. Scott was tired of this, tired of the blood and mud that caked his features. Tired of this battle. This horrible battle had to end soon. His hand found the pommel of his blade and he dragged it through the mud towards him, gripping it tight. He needed to get back into the fray...

_/Stand up. Stand up! Stand!/_

Getting to his feet was hard, especially with the way the rain was pouring down, making the mud shift under his feet. Scott stabbed his sword into the ground, relying heavily on it as he pulled himself to his feet, finding stable ground.

“Scott behind you!” came his father’s voice across the distance.

Scott ducked immediately, instinct keeping him alive as he conjured an icicle and drove it into the changeling’s head watching as it tumbled face first into the mud. If he had been a second too late…Scott didn’t dare to think of the consequences. Just like that he was back in the fray, sword in one hand and a good reserve of mana allowing him to keep a steady flow of conjured ice shards on the other. It didn’t seem like they were winning though, the kett and their changeling mages just kept coming. Scott didn’t have the time to look around to see who was left standing. Right now he needed to save the other soldier who was getting swarmed.

He cut down the kett that was charging at him with an axe held high. His blade sliced across the kett’s exposed neck releasing an arterial spray of brownish-green blood that splattered across his face. Scott was running on full adrenaline, his mind working in overdrive. Pick up the axe. Throw the axe. Conjure a cloud of ice shards. Pick off that nearest kett soldier. Take out the changeling on the left with a hit to the gut, then slit its throat. Jump back, avoid the dagger, feint right, then left, go in for the kill. Pry that changeling off father’s back. Stab it. Kill it.

Rest…

He took a breather for a moment, turning back around to look at his father who gave him a rare smirk, “Good job Sc—“

Scott froze, his eyes widening at the blade suddenly protruding out of his father’s chest. No. This had to be a dream.

“Dad…”

His father grimaced as the sword was pushed deeper into his chest, blood spurting from his mouth, “S-Scott! Run!”

_/Run? Run where? Who was he running from?/_

Scott stood there, rooted to the ground. He didn’t know what the hell to do. This had to be a nightmare. He was supposed to wake up at any moment now and find himself back in the base camp. Instead here he was, standing in a muddy battlefield his whole world suddenly shattering into pieces as he watched the blade plunge right through his father’s chest, sticking out at that ugly angle.

“R-run!” his father yelled again, blood spewing from his mouth. His father’s grey eyes were burning with that fight, “Run boy! Dammit!”

Scott was blinking rapidly, to stop the burning in his eyes. He shook his head, mouth opening and closing even as his father waved his hand at him, gritting his teeth as crimson red bled from his lips, trailing down the sides of his mouth.

“Go!” Alec said, his voice softer this time, “Go…Scott…”

And just like that, the light in his father’s eyes was extinguished. His arm that had been stretched out reaching for him, fell limp and his entire body seemed to slump forward on the sword.

Scott, took a step back. Still in utter disbelief.

The sword vanished from where it had been lodged in his father’s chest. Then almost in slow motion, King Alec’s body slumped over into a kneeling position in the mud as a triumphant looking kett pulled the blade, stained in crimson blood from his father’s body. He gave a disgusting smirk wiping the blade clean of blood and then the kett gave a powerful kick, toppling the dead King’s body over into the mud.

“Where’s your king now little boy?” the kett sneered.

Scott grit his teeth, he felt the burning in his eyes, the tears spilling from them. This was his father’s killer? This bloody soldier? “You bastard!” he screamed as he readied his sword and went in for a swing. “I’ll kill you!” he snarled when the kett easily dodged his attack with a laugh.

“You can try,” the soldier said, “You and what little army you have left. But we will always be stronger, we will always be better and you will always lose, _human_.”

Scott looked around and sure enough it was as the kett said. Their army had been utterly devastated. Hundreds of bodies littered the field. Mostly humans he could tell. And then alongside them were the bodies of krogans, turians and even the angara. Anger seemed to grow inside him, anger and sadness building like metal being heated as it glowed red and white.

“You monster!!!!” Scott roared as he felt the raw power of ice tear through his being, he directed the flow of it at the kett watching as the ice began to encase him from the feet up.

Scott’s hands were shaking and he didn’t know how to stop this. He didn’t know how to stop this raw power coming out of him. He didn’t even know how he was capable of such power. He watched as the ice crept up the kett’s body, stopping him from struggling. There was a wicked smile on his face for some reason and Scott didn’t know why.

“Look at you, so much power, you would make a good changeling. Yes…” the kett hissed.

“Archon!”

Scott snapped out of of his sudden burst of power at the name. That was the name of the enemy leader. This…no…this soldier…

“Archon! Our left flank—“

Scott stopped short when he saw another kett approaching them. She looked at him her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. The next moment, Scott felt a fist connect with his jaw and the world spun around unsteadily as he tumbled to the ground. He saw the female kett moving, rescuing Archon whom he had trapped in ice…Scott reached out a hand, trying to stop her, trying to freeze her. The magic sparked in his hand, it sparked and faltered and fizzled out as his world slowly faded to black…

* * *

  
“…sister…will need to…message across…”

“What about…fought with us…angara…”

Scott opens his eyes, his body feeling leaden. The air smells metallic and damp like wet earth. He can hear voices murmuring somewhere in the tent. Turning his head slightly he finds bodies laid out next to him, bandaged, bloodied bodies of the wounded. His heavy eyes struggle to stay open, blinking, trying to remember. The kett…Archon…the moment a blade split through his father’s body. His father! His father was dead! Scott had seen his father’s killer, the kett leader Archon, disguised as a plain soldier. The bastard!

He struggled to get up now, pushing down the feeling of pain and gritting his teeth as he supported himself on his elbow, swinging one leg over the side of the bed. That alone had Scott breathing heavily from the exertion. He needed to find Archon. He needed to make him pay! Struggling to his feet, Scott attempted to stand only to be intercepted by Liam who caught him mid-fall.

“Whoa there, Ryder you’re not getting out of bed yet,” he said sitting Scott back down in the cot.

“Let go,” Scott hissed as he batted Liam’s hand away, “I need to get out of here,” he said fighting to stand once again.

“Scott, no!”

Strong arms dragged him back towards the bed, what little progress Scott had made was completely erased.

“Liam!” Scott snapped as he glared at the knight, “Do not stop me!” he snarled as he kicked out at the other man when he tried to force him back into bed once more, “Don’t fucking stop me! Fuck! Let go!” yelled as he fought against Liam, feeling a sharp pain as some wound probably reopened.

“Don’t fight him Scott,” a voice said, strong and cool.

Another jailer…of course his commotion would have caught the healer’s attention.

Scott glared at the woman, “You can’t stop me, Lexi!” he spat as he doubled his efforts against the asari and Liam who were trying to hold him down.

“Scott, please. Please don’t do this,” Lexi said as she gripped the prince’s arm and held him down against the cot, “You’re not well yet. I can’t let you go anywhere.”

Scott screamed at her, he kicked his feet, trying to throw them off. They didn’t understand. They didn’t see what he had seen!

Liam’s fingers dug into his shoulder now, pinning him down, “We’re only trying to help you.”

“Cora! Come quick! Hold him down,” Lexi ordered as she waved the blond-haired knight over to Scott’s side.

“Fucking let go of me!” Scott screams as he tries to use his magic. He tries to command the ice to his hands, tries to make daggers of them but to no avail. The magic does not answer him and Scott is still prisoner. His friends shouldn’t be doing this to him! Cora pushed him back down, she didn’t look too happy about it. Her face was grimly set. Lexi disappeared. Liam’s hand tightened around his shin. Scott felt his chest tightening, anxiety and panic setting in. Every moment that they kept him a prisoner here, every moment that they spent trying to hold him down, Archon was getting farther and farther away from him!

Lexi returned to Scott’s bedside now, uncorking a small vial, she smoothed Scott’s damp brunet locks back from his had, shushing him softly just as she had done when the prince was younger. Her heart clenched as she looked into the prince’s fearful light blue eyes. “Shh…it’s alright Scott. Drink this. It’ll be all right,” she cooed as she put the vial containing a strong sleeping draft to his lips.

Scott had no choice but to drink from the vial. The liquid was sweet and he felt the effects of it almost immediately. The concoction soothed the anger inside him, it numbed his senses. He locked eyes with Lexi, holding fast to the healer’s hand as Liam and Cora’s hold on him was lifted.

“Please…” Scott whispered as Lexi carded her hand through his hair, holding the prince’s hand in hers. “Please Lexi…I need…to save him…” he rasped, feeling his vision blurring as his throat tightened and a sob escaped his lips, “I need to save my dad…” he whispered as his eyes fell shut again.

Lexi sat next to the young prince in silence, she watched as a tear fell from Scott’s eye, rolling down his cheek. The crisis was averted for now. Gently she smoothed the tear away with a finger just like she had done so many a time before when the human was younger. “You can save him when you’re better Scott,” Lexi assured the sleeping prince as she slipped her fingers from Scott’s hand tucking the young man’s hand back under the blanket.

The arrow wound under his shoulder blade had reopened from the earlier violence, the bandages soaked in red. The poultice alone wasn’t going to work. Lexi let her hand hover above Scott’s shoulder now, silvery magic spilled forth from her hands into the poultice covered wound. She heard Scott whimper in his sleep and felt her heart clench in her chest. No one should have been in his position, witnessing the death of their parent like that. Cutting off the silvery flow of magic, Lexi undid the bandages, removing the poultice. The wound was healed. In it’s place now was a silvery little scar. With a final look at the sleeping prince, Lexi left his side, rejoining the two knights on the other side of the healing tent.

“The both of you should get some rest,” Lexi said as she took over from Liam the care of one of the soldiers with a broken arm.

“I don’t think we’d be getting much rest, any of us,” Liam said as he cast a worried glance back across to Scott, “What’s gonna happen when he wakes up?”

Cora shrugged, as she finished fastening a bandage around a female soldier’s arm, “I just hope he doesn’t go into a rage again,” she said, washing her hands in a basin of water, “I don’t want to have to hold him down like that the next time it happens.”

“Leave him to me,” Lexi said, “I’ll let the both of you know when he wakes up again.”

“Thank you,” Liam said as he took some supplies with him, “We’ll see to the rest of the casualties and let you know if anything comes up.”

“Of course,” Lexi answered watching as the two knights left the tent. She takes one last look over at Scott, just to check that he was still in bed before she goes to tend to the rest of the wounded.

* * *

  
The kett and their changelings were swarming them in endless droves. They all had the same face, silvery eyes gleaming with an evil glint. A wicked smile plastered to their face showing off sharp teeth.

_“Surrender or burn…”_

Scott wakes with a start this time, drawing a deep breath as though he was coming up from the water for air. It takes him awhile to realise that the echoing evil laughter is only in his head. He had been dreaming. He is alone now and it is dark. With a sigh he settles back in the cot, regulating his breathing. It was only a dream. Archon was not here. But Archon had killed his father. Scott props himself up on an elbow, his shoulder hurting slightly. He grits his teeth and forces himself to push past the pain. This time, he manages to get into an upright position, sitting at the edge of the cot with his legs dangling over.

His eyes take in the bodies of the other wounded soldiers in the tent. They all wore the colours of Terrene. But their bodies were wrapped in bandages stained in blue and green and colours that were not the crimson red of human blood. Terrene’s army consisted mainly of humans, turians and asari. There was also at least one or two packs of krogan who had offered to aid his father in the Uprising. So many of them had lost their lives out there in the fight…

A shaft of moonlight fills the tent now and Scott looks up at the sound of the fluttering canvas. He finds the healer Lexi coming into the tent with soiled bandages. Her face lights up when she sees him and in moments Lexi was at his bedside, “You’re awake,” she comments with a relieved smile, checking his wounds.

Scott smiles back, “I’m fine Lexi, I wasn’t hurt that badly,” he said as he brushes her fussing hands away. “Don’t put me back under please.”

“As long as you don’t make the brash decision to rush out of here again.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Scott said as he watches Lexi prop the pillows up, motioning for him to sit back in bed. He lets her fuss over him once more, settling back against the pillows. “Are these all that we saved?” he asked as he looked about the tent again counting about twelve or so wounded.

“The angara refused to let us treat them. Those that you see here are all of our soldiers, the ones with minor injuries anyway,” Lexi said, “There is another tent where they are worse off and…most of them…they’re slowly going quiet…Cora and Liam have been helping me along with the others who were unscathed.”

“How many survived?”

Lexi’s voice was soft when she answered, “My estimates would say at least a hundred or so men and women. Maybe two hundred if we’re lucky considering the stragglers.”

Scott nods, looking to his lap and picking at the fleece blanket “…and…what about my father?”

“I’ve taken care of him,” Lexi said, “Sir Liam and Lady Cora brought your father’s body back from the battlefield along with you. I told them I’d let them know when you were awake.”

“Can I…see him first?” Scott asked.

“Of course.”

With Lexi’s help, Scott manages to get out of bed. Despite being a little unstable on his feet, Scott manages to make it the short distance to the tent where they have decided to keep his father’s body. The King's body lies on a wooden table inside the tent, dressed in his finest robes, a red and black tunic with a belt cinched about his waist. His hands were folded, fingers interlinked across his belly. He looked as though he were only sleeping but Scott knew that if he were to look at his father’s chest there would be a large gash left by the sword of Archon.

Scott sighed. Closing his eyes now, he covered his father’s cold hand, “May you rest with the stars, father,” he whispers feeling his throat tightening as he speaks. “I will avenge your death.”

* * *

  
“As soon as I saw you and His Majesty fall, I gave them the signal to retreat,” Captain Dunn said, her voice ringing cold through the tent, carrying over the soft pitter patter of the rain on canvas. “I had to leave the angara to fend for themselves. We were critically outnumbered Your Grace,” she said a little uncomfortably, clearly not used to referring to Scott as such, “Archon would have sent in more of his men if we hadn’t stopped the left flank’s retreat with Moshae’s heavy artillery. Had we stayed in there a moment longer our few hundred survivors would have been decimated as well. I had to make the call.”

“Your decision will have repercussions, captain,” Nakmor Kesh, the leader of a small band of krogan fighters spoke up, “I took Moshae and her party to safety before I came back here,” Kesh said, addressing Scott now, “The angara know,” she said, her tone grave, “They know we abandoned them. Let’s just say they will not be so forgiving the next time we decide to ask them for help.”

“Then we don’t rely on them,” Cora said, “We strike them out as allies. We still have the turians on our side and what about your grandfather’s clan? Couldn’t we ask him?”

“I speak only for my band of krogan when I say we would fight for King Alec. My grandfather on the other hand, he is another matter.”

“Striking the angara out of the book only means we’ll have another adversary to deal with,” Liam said, “It also means that all our trade routes with Thessia and Kahje will be cut off. Terrene won’t survive without the income that trading provides for us.”

Scott’s head was whirling with the different problems being brought up at the table. He didn’t know what to tackle first. He wanted to scream and ask what the hell was going on. He wished his sister Sara was here with him to deal with all this. She was always the one who kept her head on her shoulders when times got rough. He had to channel her personality. He needed to be calm.

“Leaving our allies on the battlefield must have been a hard decision to make Captain Dunn,” Scott said, “But the angara came to us for help only when they themselves found that they could not take down the kett alone and that is saying a lot for the fiercest race on the planet to reach out to us.”

“Well we are the closest allies they had,” Liam said.

“If they had any at all,” Captain Dunn added.

“And in terms of threat, you humans would not have proven to be much of a problem for them,” Kesh said matter of factly.

“Point noted,” Cora ground out, staring the krogan down.

“The kett’s invasion at Havarl would have threatened our western borders. Our part in the war was primarily to help the angara but the war we waged was also to protect our people,” Scott continued calmly, slowly finding his voice, “We help them fight the kett, we keep our people safe from the destruction that was moving nearer towards Terrene each day. The angara knew that. We did not have to help them but we did and we stand by our decision. Retreat was the only cause of action left for us at that point in time. Whether the angara choose to believe us or not is another matter,” he said his jaw tightening.

Silence fell over the table, each of them pondering on the situation. If the angara chose to attack Terrene, then their forces would be stretched thin on three fronts. With the losses from this battle, Terrene would have to rely heavily on mercenaries from the other races or risk losing to the angara.

“Have we heard any word from them at all?” Scott asked, breaking the silence.

The captain shook her head.

“They pulled their scouts out,” Cora informed him, “I saw a bunch of them leaving our camp just now as well. It doesn’t look too good.”

“Apart from Moshae do we know how many of them survived?” he asked directing the question to Kesh.

The krogan shook her head, “I escorted a small team of them about six or seven back to their camp near Aya. They had more troops stationed in the forests. Reinforcements from the capital I’d assume. I don’t know what they were waiting for but I told them we weren’t doing too good out there and said if they wanted to jump in now would be the best time. Then they said they were waiting for a signal.”

“What signal?” Liam asked, “Our knights weren’t told of any signals.”

“My division didn’t have any word on that either,” Captain Dunn answered her brows furrowing in confusion.

“There was no word on a signal. That’s just the bullshit they’re making up because they didn’t want to help us. Mage haters!” Cora answered coldly.

Scott shook his head, “No something must have gone wrong on their side, a miscommunication or something…” he said trying to remember the countless discussions he had had with his father. “There were four teams going into the charge,” Scott recounted, “Kesh, you were leading the left most flank with Moshae’s unit at the bottle neck protecting the entrance to Aya. Captain Dunn you were leading the charge with the turian reinforcements nearest to Palaven. Liam and Cora you two were with the knights along with me and my father coming out of Terrene. General Evfra was with us as well…he would have mentioned something about a signal.”

“General Evfra,” Cora ground out, “It had to be him. He was the only angara with us. If reinforcements were coming then he would have given the signal.”

“It makes sense…” Liam reluctantly added.

“But why? What is his motive?” Scott asked. He knew little of General Evfra aside from the fact that the angara was a stoic battle master sent from Aya, the angaran capital. He was the one who had been dispatched to the Citadel in Terrene and the number of times Scott had seen his stern face in the castle halls was nigh on countless. General Evfra was the go between for communications with the angaran royalty, why they never came down to Terrene itself was a matter Scott had been wondering about since day one. Sara thought that the General was just too shy to speak up and as fearsome as he looked, he probably had a soft side to him as well.

If General Evfra truly hated the mages as Cora suggested then why not kill them all in Terrene? Why decide to drag them all into battle and risk countless lives for the sake of plotting the murder of human mages? There had to be more to it. “I don’t believe that the General would have done something so…cruel,” Scott said, “He never once mentioned anything about a signal and I was there in all the talks he had with father. The general never uttered a single word about a signal.”

“That can’t be true,” Kesh said disbelief in her voice, “But if it is…then he was smart.”

Captain Dunn nodded in agreement, “The only reason why the General never spoke about a signal would be so that we wouldn’t have any evidence to pin a blame onto the angara.”

Scott let the words sink in.

“So…what? The general wanted my father to take the blame for all the deaths? Is that it?”

No one wanted to answer the question but there was a silent unanimous agreement that it was the truth.

If it was really true, if the General had not mentioned the signal so that they might all perish in the battle with the kett, then everything, all the deaths, all the bloodshed, all of his anger would be on General Evfra’s head. Scott balled his fist up, slamming it onto the table, “I’ll kill him!” he hissed, gritting his teeth, “If I find out that he is to blame for all of this…for my father’s death…I’ll kill him,” he seethed, drawing the words out. “That fucking angaran bastard…him and Archon…they’ll pay.”

“I am sorry for your loss, Your Grace,” Captain Dunn said apologetically as she put a hand on the Prince’s shoulder, “Your father was a great man and a wise leader…I know you’re anxious to avenge his death. But first, we must make plans. We can deal with the matter of the signal later. Right now, what we need to do is to bury the dead…and…we must inform the princess.”

Scott was silent at that, his anger fading at the Captain’s words.

_/I have to tell my sister that father is dead./_

He knew it would be a huge blow to her. Sara had always been his father’s little ray of sunshine. King Alec didn’t see her as competition for the crown. She wasn’t a boy. He didn’t see her as a rival, someone who might one day potentially make a name greater than his own. This news would definitely shatter her.

“I could go,” Liam offered, “I’ll take a horse and set out after this.”

“No,” Scott said pursing his lips, “That’s too slow. Even if you ride day and night without stopping it would be too late. Sara needs to know immediately. I’ll send word to her by means of a pigeon.”

“Of course,” Liam said with a nod.

They stood around the table looking to Scott to be dismissed. Right, with his father gone…he was in charge here. “Thank you all for your hard work and your loyalty,” he said looking at each of the allies that stood at the table, “The crown will not forget what you did for Terrene. You are dismissed.”

One by one, they took their leave until finally Scott was alone. His heavy legs carry him through the light drizzle, past tired looking soldiers who raise a hand to salute him, past the cloth covered bodies of soldiers lying in the mud and finally to the sanctuary of his father’s tent. Pushing through into the enclosed area, Scott is hit by the realisation that he will never see his father again. He will never hear King Alec’s voice telling him how he was holding a sword wrongly. He will never be reprimanded for skipping out on lessons again. He will never be scolded for all his witty back talk to the tutors. He will never get to see his father’s half-smirk again.

Reality punches him right in the gut and Scott has to take a moment to breathe it all in. He stumbles into the wooden chair, sitting down heavily in it. From somewhere behind him he can hear the cooing of the homing pigeon, an insistent reminder that he needs to get the word to his sister soon. Oh how Scott wants to protect her from this, from this feeling of emptiness, this feeling of disbelief. If he could keep it from her forever, he would.

Death was such a strange thing. Having seen his mother die in bed from a severe bout of pneumonia when they were younger, he hadn’t understood it. Back then, his father just said that mother was in a deep sleep and she had to be kept in a safe place, in the family crypt for when she would wake up again. His childlike innocence had believed every word of it. Yet now, seeing what had happened to his father on the battlefield…the brutality of the way he had been killed…Scott knew better.

Life was a fragile thing, a fragile, treasured thing.

This time when the tears fell, Scott gave in, sobbing freely as he ran a hand through his hair, looking at everything that his father had left behind. All the maps laid out on the table. His swords and knives hanging on the rack in the corner. His light coat. Even the goblet of unfinished wine at the edge of the table that Scott is sitting at right now. Looking at all these, Scott half expected his father to walk into the tent at any moment and scold him for sitting in his chair. Scott wouldn’t have minded if he had to take a scolding, or even a good belting, but as much as he wanted his father to enter the tent, he knew it was never going to happen again.

At least not in this lifetime.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'll try to update this story with a chapter per week. I'm in the midst of planning all of this and I'm really excited to write it all out. I'd also love to hear your thoughts on the story so far!


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